I Must Own You Completely
by Niphuria
Summary: Special warning - some blood-letting torture involved and non-consensual sexual situations. Not terribly hardcore, but some readers may want to avoid this. Tarrant has a Dark Desire to own Alice and he needs to prove to her and himself that she is.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Alice in Wonderland or any of its characters. Based on the 2010 Tim Burton film.

Rated M for explicit adult content.

Special warning - some blood-letting torture involved and non-consensual sexual situations. Not terribly hardcore, but some readers may want to avoid this.

Tarrant has a Dark Desire to possess Alice and he wants to prove to her that she is owned...completely.

Not a part of my continuing Alice/Tarrant story. This is completely separate.

* * *

**I MUST OWN YOU COMPLETELY**

So there she was, his soon-to-be Alice. Sleeping now, but not for long. He hadn't used a great deal of chloroform. Tarrant had kidnapped her while she was walking through the Tugley Woods. He had warned her himself of the lurking dangers there. Was it his fault she decided to ignore those warnings? His Darkness had taken a grip on his mind and he knew that he must have her. After all, he had sensed her return and reasoned that she had returned for him in fulfillment of her promise. He was determined to keep her this time and have her for good. And he would.

Oh, but he could wait. He _would_ wait. He would wait until she was ready to love him as much as he loved her. And he would own her as much as she would own him. But his ownership would be upon her. His ownership, that is, in the form of a permanent Mark. His own personal Mark. She'd bear it always. And only he would ever see it, well, of course after she had seen it herself and been afraid and ashamed. He would be the one to comfort her and love her and see her through her humiliation and she would get over it and be Alice again. His Alice. And she would love him all the more because of his complete acceptance of her. Of all of her. And even the Mark upon her.

It wouldn't be a Mark anyone would recognize. Oh, no, Tarrant had been too careful for that. He was the last remaining Hightopp. Even if he was not the last Hightopp, it would be highly unlikely that any of them would recognize the symbol. It was one of the first Hightopp family symbols in Underland. There had been a number of changes to it over the ages and now nobody would recognize it. Nobody but him. He had found it difficult to find and had only done so by accidentally stumbling upon it in a very old tome that was falling apart in the Queen's Library. There was the sketch of the ancient symbol on a depiction of one of the earliest claymores the Hightopps had learned as a Clan to wield so expertly. Of course he had secreted the old tome in his voluminous pocket and later burned it. Leaving behind any evidence at all would not do. No, it would not do at all.

Now she was laying face down and naked on the old and worn wooden table in his cabin not far from the Windmill House. She wouldn't see a thing. She was blinded by a bag he had tied over her head and around her neck. Not too tightly, however. He wanted her to be as comfortable as possible and able to breathe, after all. But the midnight black fabric was completely opaque and she would not be able to make out anything of her surroundings.

She was also tied down firmly but not cruelly. He used fabric strips that were quite strong but would not cut easily into her wrists and ankles. Well, they may a little as she would inevitable struggle, but he had tied her tightly to the four legs of the table with wide enough bands of fabric to hopefully not cause scarring on her . He regretted that they had to be so tight, but if she struggled overmuch his Mark would be marred by her movements and forever ruined. No, he had to immobilize her.

Tarrant studied her through lime green and orange eyes flecked with red. Oh, by the White she was beautiful! He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he had enjoyed undressing her. What a vision she was! All pale white and golden and voluptuous and soft and supple and...

"Stop it! You have a job to do!" he whispered to himself, then slapped himself across the face as a reminder to not speak at all. It would not do to have Alice hear his voice. He would have to remain silent as he performed his "work" on her body. But where? Behind her shoulder? The small of her back? No, not those places. Somewhere where none of the beautiful dresses he made for her and would make for her in the future would reveal it.

Yes. A buttock. A perfect, lush, rounded buttock. The left one. Perfect. There he could enjoy his sign of ownership forever with nobody else ever being able to see it.

Tarrant moved over to her as she began to stir and awaken. He would have to be frightening. And he knew she would be frightened. He didn't want to be overly cruel, even through his Madness he wouldn't, he couldn't, be truly cruel to his Alice. But his desire and slurvish lust for her and for her to feel some pain and terror were not beyond him. He knew he would neither rape nor injure her. Yes, he would enjoy her body, and his Mark would be painful at first, but only at first. The pain would disappear in time and she would be none the worse for it.

But he could not be kind or she would suspect that he was no brigand or lone and lustful soldier. She could never, ever suspect him. No, he had planned too carefully to have that happen.

Alice awoke and as soon as she tried to move her limbs he clearly saw that she knew precisely the circumstances she was in. "Why am I here? Who's here? What do you want with me?"

Tarrant couldn't stand to hear her questions. Why hadn't he gagged her? He did not want to hear her questions or her pleading. But...yes...the Madness wanted her to feel what he would do to her and he wanted, slurvish knave that he was, to hear her cries.

He covered her mouth with one hand and pinched her nose closed with the other for a few moments, giving her the clear message to stop talking. She did stop talking. At once. Smart girl, his Alice. Very smart.

Mad Tarrant couldn't resist touching her now. He saw her quivering flesh and straining limbs and his lust was inflamed even more. Oh, he would keep his vow to keep her virtue intact, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy her a little, did it? No, no, not at all.

He had removed his thimbles and bandages and lotioned his hands until they were reasonably smooth and thus, unrecognizable to Alice. Tarrant climbed atop the table and positioned himself between her spread legs and leaned forward. His fingers practically itched to touch her perfect Alice breasts. As he slid his hands beneath her to cup them she whimpered and keened but did not speak. She was too afraid.

At last! Tarrant cupped those luscious peach-like breasts and squeezed them hard. Alice yelped but he paid her no heed. He squeezed them some more and then took each nipple between two fingers and pinched and twisted them until she cried out loudly in pain. Then he stopped. After all, he didn't want to truly hurt or injure her. He satisfied himself with playing with her flattened mounds for a few more minutes until his back began to ache and he had to reluctantly draw back into a kneeling position.

Now what? Yes...the enchanting curve of her back. He stretched to relieve the tension in his own back and then bent forward once more. Tarrant flicked his tongue over her spine and slowly grazed it lower and lower until he reached her lower back. Alice quivered and shuddered and whimpered some more, but she did not cry out. Ah, her lower back at last. That enticing curve, that so perfect curve that was made for him. Just for him. He kissed it, tongued it, and then almost bit her lightly, but then remembered the tell-tale gap between his teeth and restrained himself. He could leave no evidence whatever.

Then...dare he? Of course! He had to be anyone but himself. He sat up and slapped her pretty little arse. She squealed and he did it again, harder. And then again and again. She whimpered and gasped and tightened her rosy nether cheeks and Tarrant had never been so aroused in his life. He scooted back a bit and leaned down and ran his tongue through the sweet valley between her buttocks and she squealed again, but this time...this time the tone was different. It was filled with fear mixed with unwanted pleasure. Her gasping this time was plainly not fear alone. Pleasure was evident.

Pleasure? This was getting better and better. Now he would do what he had brought her here to do.

He hopped off the table and moved to his bag. Tarrant withdrew a small scoring knife, a cloth, a small brush, and a bottle of deep black dye. Oh, Alice would not find this part pleasurable in the least. But afterward, when his work was done, he would reward her.

He stood beside her helpless body and then smacked her rear one more time. Alice tensed and realised that something bad was about to happen to her. Her gasps began to turn into pants of fear.

Tarrant smiled. It would be all right. Let her be afraid. She should be. He wanted her to be. All the better for her to turn to him for comfort when it was all over.

He took a clean cloth and then took up the scoring knife. Now, he had to do this exactly right. Of course he would, he knew, for his hands and fingers were the nimblest in the realm and he knew he would make the perfect crest; the perfect Mark.

Alice flinched and cried out as he made the first incision into her pale flesh. He stopped for a moment to let her process what was happening to her. Then he cut again. She screamed, whether in pain or terror he could not tell. But such Marking had been done many, many times over the ages and the pain was never reported to be _that _bad. It must be terror. Good. She would remember every cut.

Tarrant casually dabbed the blood that welled from his first incisions and then painted black dye into them until they overflowed. He dabbed again. Painted more dye and then dabbed once more. Yes, the dye would remain.

Alice was now sobbing. A part of Tarrant felt sorry for her, but thankfully he was still in Madness and thankfully it was a semi-madness that he could control. His Control meant that he could continue on despite her fear and pain.

And he did. He cut and cut and dyed and dyed. Alice sobbed until she was out of tears. And then she just moaned in defeat and stopped resisting altogether. She no longer even twitched as he cut her and dabbed in the stinging dye. She knew she could do nothing about it and was simply enduring her ordeal until its end.

Tarrant was proud of her. She had cried out, gasped, squealed, screamed and moaned enough for him to treasure always. It was all right for her to Rest now. It was all right. He had no idea how long it took for him to complete his work but he finally had. It must have been several hours, at least.

He stood back to admire his work. It still bled a little, but for the most part it was clean and clear. It was a depiction of a rare flower surrounded by an intricate ivy design with a H so cleverly hidden that only a trained eye would even spot it. And even if one did, there were many H names in the realms. Hightopp would not draw any suspicion.

Tarrant chuckled inside his mind. And who would Alice show it to or tell anyway? Well, excepting himself, of course.

Alice seemed to realise that the painful ordeal was over. She was likely wondering what was next. Well, Tarrant would reveal that to her right now.

He put the things away and strode to her again. He stroked the backs of her thighs until she was confused once more. First the strange man pleasured her, then he hurt her, and now he was pleasuring her again?

He got back atop the table and lay flat, letting his legs hang over the edge as he faced her exposed womanhood. Tarrant inhaled deeply. She smelled of fear and sweat and uncertainty and...Alice.

Ah, Alice. His Alice. His Marked Alice. He slid his index finger along her slit and she quivered and gasped anew. Tarrant grinned widely and slid his finger along her sex again. When she squeaked he decided to play with her little nub of flesh and now Alice made an angry noise, but Tarrant wasn't fooled. She found it pleasurable and there was no denying it. He could smell her arousal and she was becoming very wet. She whimpered again, likely in confusion that she could feel pleasure from the same man who caused her so much pain earlier and had carved her flesh for hours.

Tarrant stopped grinning and settled for a satisfied smirk. Well, he was going to confuse her some more! He leaned closer to her and this time licked her folds until she tried to squirm. Yes, she was feeling pleasure all right! Tarrant smelled that, too! He continued to tease her until she stopped trying to pretend that she hated what he was doing. Then he teased her tiny nubbin of stiff and ultra-sensitive flesh until she was shuddering and gasping and about to climax.

Tarrant stopped at once and Alice whimpered again, this time in frustration. He hated to stop, as his own arousal was at a high as well as hers, but he didn't want her first orgasm to come from someone she believed was a stranger and a brigand. He wanted it to come from him, Tarrant Hightopp. The man she would soon love and give herself to freely.

He hopped off of the table with a mental apology to Alice. He would release her and return her to the Tugley Woods, but first...

Tarrant opened his breeches and grabbed his white-purple erection. He couldn't help himself. If he didn't relieve himself he would keep her here, and goodness only knew how long he would be able to control the Dark Madness? He stroked his manhood as he drank in the sight of Alice, his Mark, and her dripping wet sex. She still radiated fear, confusion, resentment, and arousal. He pumped himself some more and when she suddenly made a sound of frustration he came. And, oh, it was glorious! He had never come so hard from self-pleasuring before! His knees were weak and he had to prop himself against the table for a few moments to rest and regain his control.

But he had business to attend to. He took the chloroform rag and re-wet it and pressed it hard to Alice's nose and mouth through the mask and soon she was unconscious once more.

* * *

When Alice came to she realised she was fully clothed and completely unharmed except for the pain on her left buttock. What precisely had happened? Her mind was fuzzy and she had a dreadful headache. Memories started to come back in greater detail but she decided to push them aside until... She needed her best friend right now.

Alice groggily stood up and began to slowly and unsteadily walk towards the Windmill House. She couldn't wait to see him! If anyone would understand and could comfort her it would be him.

Tarrant...she must get to Tarrant. She needed him now. And she had returned to Underland because of her strong feelings for him. Perhaps, if he would have her, she would need him forever. And more.

* * *

Tarrant saw a blur of blue at the Gate leading to the Tea Table. Alice paused to smile wanly at him. He smiled back and stood when she began to run toward him, arms outstretched and tears streaming down her face.

* * *

This is a total departure from my usual stories which feature a Tarrant who doesn't have a dark side for Alice, but I was in the mood to experiment. I haven't felt well lately and so perhaps this idea came from my frustration. All comments are welcome except for flames about the theme. I warned you all before you read this!


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Alice in Wonderland or any of its characters. Based on the 2010 Tim Burton Film.

Rated M for explicit adult content. Special warning - references to trauma and torture.

Tarrant had tortured and traumatized his beloved Alice. She's willing to forgive, but he cannot forgive himself. Can she bring herself to help him do so?

**Tarrant's Remorse**

Alice sat at the kitchen table, staring into a cup of tea that had long since grown cold, lost in troubled thoughts. Tarrant, by her request, was staying away from her for awhile. She had a lot to process since his Confession and right now she didn't want him around while she endeavored to do so.

Flashback -

Alice was in a strange place, tied face down and naked to a wooden table by straps that made any movement impossible. She had a black bag over her head that completely obscured any details of where she could possibly be.

The strange man, her kidnapper and tormentor, had just spent several horrifying and agonizing hours scoring her flesh and stinging it with what she finally realized was a dye. He was marking her! He was carving a design on her body, her left buttock, to be precise, and making certain that it would be permanent!

After screaming and making frantic, incoherent sounds for some time she finally forced herself to calm down. There was no point in screaming, and she knew that her kidnapper would not tolerate her speaking.

She had begun to ask questions the moment she awoke and her captor had placed his hand over her nose and mouth and kept her from breathing for several long moments. Alice had got the message. He would not allow her to speak. All of her questions were to go unanswered, even as to why she was in this horrible place!

After a while, she knew not how long, the pain from the constant and steady cutting dulled enough for her to be able to endure it without crying any longer, or giving him any satisfaction whatsoever in her suffering.

When he was finally done her entire body relaxed. That is until she wondered what he would do next. Would he...take her virtue? Would he beat her? He obviously didn't intend to kill her or else he would not have spent so much time in meticulously marking her. Was she to be his slave?

Then she flinched as her kidnapper began to tenderly stroke her thighs. What? He had first mauled her flattened breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples until she cried out, and then, suddenly, he was more gentle as he played with her breasts. He had painfully spanked her bottom, Marked her, and now he was being tender again? What was going through his mind? Or worse, was he planning on mentally or emotionally conditioning her for...something? She had heard of such a thing. What was it called? A conditioning of prisoners with their captors? She recalled reading in one of her father's magazines of such a thing; that some people were kidnapped or held as hostages and over time had become attached to their captors and even were staunchly loyal to them. She had dismissed such notions as penny-novel drivel until now. Now, she would give anything to have learned otherwise than through first-hand experience!

No! She would not submit, no matter what this evil man did to her, tender or otherwise. She had slain the Jabberwocky! Even if the worst were to happen, she would not allow it to break her, or taint her spirit!

She would have none of it. She would steel herself for whatever was to come, but she would never, ever, give in to him.

Suddenly the man surprised her. She felt him get back on the table and she knew he was staring at her most intimate flesh. She was mortified once more. What was he going to do? What he did do next was...unexpected. He moved closer to her and began to touch her there. If she had been able to move Alice would have leapt up from the table in shock. But as it was, she could not move. Not so much as an inch.

He ran his finger up and down her femininity and an unwanted heat began to build in Alice's belly. What was it? It couldn't be...no. It couldn't be...arousal? Alice was innocent, but she was not entirely ignorant. Thanks to her sister Margaret and some smuggled in books she knew what arousal and sex was. Mostly. And she knew that men often touched and caressed a woman there. And it felt so tantalizing despite everything! Her body was betraying her and Alice was furious. She had not realised that a woman would not be in control of her own body!

Apparently her kidnapper knew this. She could swear that she sensed a smug satisfaction radiating from him at her response. She was becoming embarrassingly moist and he knew it. By the sound of his breathing he could smell it. Smell her. And that knowledge just made her feel more angry and frustrated. And besides that...his fingers were roughened by work. That very roughness made his grazing and stroking of her maiden flesh feel all the more powerful.

The stroking, even with his rough hands, obviously lotioned, was still almost smooth in the way his fingers danced and pressed against and across her tender flesh. The feeling...it was almost electric! Every stroke of a work-worn finger sent waves of heat shooting through her very core and she almost felt as if she were flying. When those fingers grazed and then stroked her sensitive nub she felt electricity anew and at that moment her body betrayed her by leaking juices she had never leaked before! This man was making her...wet! She had been moist before, but now she was positively wet. She could swear she heard a nearly inaudible chuckle as the man teased his finger feather-light across her slit once more.

Those rough fingers then began to tease at her opening and Alice involuntarily struggled as hard as she could, but her efforts only made her already over-stretched muscles ache and her nipples pain her anew. Then one finger slid a little ways inside of her. Alice froze. Could he actually take her maidenhead in such a manner? Oh, please no! Not that! But the man kept his finger barely inside her and moved it about, teasingly circling her opening until Alice was straining again and making her muscles ache all the more. The pleasure made her both euphoric and furious. She was confused and piqued. Then the finger withdrew and she was relieved, but slightly disappointed deep inside. Her traitorous body had been responding to this man's touching, stroking, and teasing. Her body! Not her, but her body! Why, oh why couldn't a woman control her own body!

The touch...that touch...it should have been familiar to her, but amidst her man-handling she had dismissed such a notion at once. Only later, when she would have time to ponder on what had been done to her would she realize why.

Oh, goodness, someone get her out of this horrible predicament! Then the situation got worse. He began to tease her tender and aroused little nub of her most sensitive flesh more intensely, focusing all of his attention there. She never could have dreamed how such a touch would feel! Margaret had told her nothing of this; the books they had smuggled into the house as girls told nothing of this. It was glorious, almost divine! All sensation began to centre in that one tiny place, as if every nerve ending in her body was now there just waiting to be teased and pleasured. And all this from the same man who had kidnapped and tormented her for hours!

Suddenly his stroking stopped. Alice held her breath. The man didn't leave the table. Instead...yes, he was moving closer to her. Soft hair tickled the insides of her straining, sensitive inner thighs and she even felt the shell of his ear brush against her. She shivered and fear arose once more. Why was he so close? Unwanted feelings of anticipation swept through Alice and she realised that she really wanted to find out! Oh, that was so evil, so utterly bad, but she could not help herself. She had never felt this frightened and yet so aroused in her entire life!

His hot breath was on her sex now, and she shuddered and felt gooseflesh arise over her entire body. What was he doing? Was he going to...she gasped aloud and moaned as he did. He began to use his tongue on her! All coherent thought was driven from her mind as that tongue began to swirl around her sex, up and down her wet slit, snaking slightly into her opening and teasing it there. Alice shuddered violently once more as waves of heat and pleasure wracked her body, making her want more, more, more! Oh, the feeling was so much stronger and more arousing and more tantalizing than anything she had ever imagined she could experience with a man. She didn't care that her stretched limbs and her raw nipples pained her so; she wanted this! She needed this!

And when he snaked his tongue back up to her stiffened and ultra-sensitive nub and flicked lightly over it she gasped her pleasure. Again, she sensed a smug satisfaction from the man, but she was beyond caring. When he sucked her flesh into his mouth and drew upon it firmly she thought she'd die if he stopped. Every tingling nerve-ending in her body was not centered there, in that tiny peak of flesh inside this man's mouth. And then he nipped her firmly, almost too hard, and she almost screamed in pleasure and desire for more. The pain mixed with the pleasure was too intoxicating for the young blonde to resist. More, she silently begged him, more, please!

She couldn't help but sigh and moan in pleasure and slowly she began to think again and realised that she was actually wanting this! She was behaving as a wanton woman with no sense of propriety at all, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her flesh, still inside his mouth, was now being teased by the tip of his tongue on a tiny spot of sensitivity that she hadn't known existed. And Alice could feel her body reaching for something, craving, straining, needing, until it almost...

And then he stopped. He stopped!

Alice was angry, frustrated, and mortified all at the same time! She had wanted to reach that peak, needed to; whatever it was. She had been so close! He took her there and then just left her...wanting. Desperately wanting! Why? Why didn't he finish what he had started? Was this a part of his mind game with her?

He got off the table and was apparently studying her. Then she heard the soft sound of his clothing being disarranged and wondered if now would come her rape. The loss of her chastity. The loss of what made her a pure young woman. Alice knew she should want, desperately want, to keep her virtue intact. But another part of her, the part of her that was enjoying what this man could do to her, made her almost...just almost, want him to take her. It was all so confusing! As a society lady she shouldn't even think such forbidden thoughts, but she was! She couldn't help herself. She had a taste of some ultimate pleasure and had lost it in an instant. And she wanted to find it again. Find it and ride the waves of pleasure to their ultimate end.

But he did not approach her again. She heard the man's breathing grow harsh and ragged and wondered what he was...no, she knew what he was doing. Margaret had told her that men often pleasured themselves in such a way. He was stroking his...manhood! Instead of raping her he was pleasuring himself! Why? He had just left her a quivering and throbbing mass of unprovoked need and frustration and he could now just look at her suffering and longing and...and do...that? She knew her anger was unreasonable. Wasn't it? She had nearly reached the peak of heavenly pleasure and then just drew back to watch her suffer in want while he pleasured himself? How dare he? She knew it was wrong of her, so very wrong, but she would rather he take his pleasure with her than on his own! She was a human being, a woman, and he had taken advantage of her in the worst way! If he wouldn't take her chastity, then why couldn't he at least have given her the pleasure she had almost reached at the tip of his tongue? Blackguard! Rogue! She was furious and was furious at herself for feeling that way!

Her tiny peak of flesh was still throbbing and tingling and she could feel how wet she was. Did the sight of her and her frustration please him? Please him enough to actually be able to reach his peak of pleasure without her? She knew his rough hands were on his member and his very soft gasps of pleasure as he stroked himself vigorously told her his rhythm was increasing. Alice suddenly let a small portion of her pent-up frustration escape her in an angry sigh.

At her sigh the man stopped breathing for a few moments and then resumed breathing, and heavily, too. Evidently he had reached his peak and now...would her use to him be at an end? Or was this just the beginning of more fear and uncertainty?

Suddenly she felt a rag being pressed against her mouth and nose and all went black.

When she regained consciousness she was back in Tugley Woods where she had been abducted. All she wanted then was to get to Tarrant; her reason for returning to Underland to begin with. She had developed rather strong feelings for him but still had obligations to take care of back home. But she had returned when she was finished and was prepared to find out how deeply her feelings for Tarrant went and where they could go. And before she had left she knew that he felt the same way about her. They both needed to be together again and explore their feelings.

But would he have her now? She had not been penetrated, but she had been violated nonetheless. And she was bearing some Mark that was not yet known to her. She hadn't any idea of what it could be. Was it something associated with the fallen Red Queendom? A fallen family? Even, perhaps...Stayne's family crest?

That last possibility made her shudder and begin to cry. But she knew, she just knew, that Tarrant would understand. He would understand that none of this was her fault. He would understand and he would comfort her. She needed him. She needed her best friend. And so, when she saw him at the end of the long Tea Table waiting for, her she had not hesitated to run into his welcoming and loving arms.

But if she had known that it was Tarrant all along, would she have rushed into his arms? No. She would not have been able to. She had been too traumatized and violated and humiliated. No, she would have gone straight to Marmoreal to see Queen Mirana.

She was relieved that things had turned out as they did, for she loved Tarrant more than her own life. But if she had known...would she have found that love? The love that she could no longer live without?

However, she _had _run to him. Gladly. And he had enveloped her in his arms and his comforting scent of cinnamon and Earl Grey. He had held her in loving arms and had wiped away her tears and soothed her until carrying her to his bed. He had snuggled her under the covers and sat beside the bed while she slept because she was afraid of being alone.

That night Alice had finally seen the mark in Tarrant's bathroom mirror. As mortifying as it was to have it and know she would always have it, she had to admit that it was a lovely work of art. A flower amidst intricate vines. It was actually beautiful. But she had no idea of why someone would kidnap her and force a tattoo upon her. It must be someone's idea of possession. Perhaps Stayne, or someone like him, desired her and if she wasn't going to love him he would have some twisted mental satisfaction that he had possessed her in a permanent way.

But why hadn't the man taken her chastity? Wouldn't that be the ultimate possession? But again, Alice was rendered unconscious. Perhaps someone was approaching and her captor felt threatened and had to remove her quickly and thought it best to not be caught with Underland's Champion in his possession so he returned her to where he had found her. That would make sense. Anyone from the White Queen's army would have possibly killed such a man on sight, or at the very least he would have been sentenced by Queen Mirana to the horror of Exile.

She had decided to not dwell on it further if she could help it. The experience was traumatic enough without her losing her muchness and even more because of it. After all, she hadn't been truly harmed. It would haunt her for the rest of her life, perhaps, but it was not anywhere near as bad as it could have been if her kidnapper hadn't chloroformed her so suddenly and returned her to the path.

During the following weeks Alice and Tarrant began to develop a more intimate relationship. They discovered that their feelings were more than intense friendship and loyalty. They had suspected it before she left Underland to fulfill her duties Above, but now they knew for certain. They were in love. They were absolutely, positively, without any doubt whatsoever, in love.

It was during their ninth week together that they consummated their love. And Alice welcomed Tarrant's tender and loving caresses and was all too happy to give her virginity to him. Tarrant had been honoured beyond words and loved her so gently, tenderly, and reverently that Alice had cried tears of pure happiness. So had he. She had never seen his eyes so beautiful in their emerald green and flecks of gold. And he told her that her eyes had never been so cornflower blue and enchanting.

And so several months of happiness passed for them and one day, during a stroll through Queen Mirana's gardens of Marmoreal, Tarrant had proposed to her and she had excitedly accepted. To become Lady Alice Hightopp! It was a dream come true. No, it was better than any dream she could have ever had! The beautiful blue stone he had chosen for her ring was perfect. But not as perfect as her happiness.

But the very next day Tarrant had descended into a deep depression and melancholy. Alice wondered if he had second thoughts about marrying her and managed to work up her courage to ask him. He vehemently denied it and said that he had something heartbreaking to tell her.

For the first time Alice felt a sick feeling that she should know what he meant. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It tingled in the back of her mind while his eyes turned to a sad deep blue tinged with grey.

Tarrant gathered her in his arms and insisted on carrying her to the sofa. Tears began to stream from his eyes and he settled down with her in his lap. He asked her to try and promise to understand what he was about to tell her and to try her very hardest not to hate him for it. That he was truly sorry for what he did and would do anything, anything at all, to make it up to her if she would give him the chance.

Alice had swallowed hard and gave him her promise to do her very best. It took Tarrant several minutes to stop his sobbing and begin to speak. And what he confessed shocked her to her very soul.

End flashback

Alice looked up from the unsipped tea and decided to go and visit her friend, Queen Mirana. Together they could work out how to resolve this agonizing situation once and for all.

* * *

Mirana and Alice sat at the Queen's tea table in her private quarters. Both knew that likely the tea would sit untouched, but its presence was a comfort nonetheless.

"So," Mirana said, after Alice had told her friend, who was actually more like a sister, everything, "is there any question at all in your mind? Any at all?"

Alice shook her head, mussed golden hair tumbling wildly about. "No, none at all, Mirana. Of course I forgive him. The strange thing is that it isn't terribly difficult for me to do. After all, Tarrant has gone through so much in his life; lost so much, his Clan, his entire family, everyone he ever loved. He just couldn't bear to even contemplate the chance of losing me as well."

"And he was in a state of Madness," Mirana added, steepling her delicate white fingers and placing them under her chin. "I know Tarrant very well. These spells of Madness were once quite frequent. But ever since you returned as a young woman, they have all but disappeared completely."

Alice looked into Mirana's chocolate brown eyes. "Truly? Well, I suppose I can believe that," she murmured. "After all, when no-one else believed in me, he did. He gave himself up to the Red Queen for me, he suffered beatings and tortures in her dungeon to keep my presence a secret. And he even risked his life with the Jabberwocky for me."

"So you have seen his heart," Mirana said. "You have seen the true Tarrant and the love he bears for you. You complete him. You stabilize him. And you understand that he will never be a completely sane man again. Ever. But his state of semi-madness makes him who he is now."

"And I love the man he is," Alice replied. "I...I just didn't think of the Darkness in him when I returned this time to stay. He usually has so much Light these days that I never even stopped to think..."

"Alice, listen to me," Mirana said, leaning forward and taking one of Alice's hands, "before you even complete that thought. Alice, we all have Darkness inside of us. All of us. And we all, well, nearly all of us, have Light as well. It is the Balancing between the two that makes a person whole. Tarrant is more Light than Dark, especially now that you have saved Underland from my sister's tyrannical reign and slayed the Jabberwocky. Especially since you befriended him and loved him unconditionally. But when you left he descended into a depression so deep that we feared for his life."

Alice gasped. "Oh, Mirana..."

"Shhh...but he waited and you returned at last. He had slipped into one of his Mad states, but it seemed mild and harmless, yet I was so afraid for him that I consulted the Oraculum and informed him that your return was indeed foretold. That must be when he began to plan how he would win you and never have to face the fear of losing you a third time, and possibly forever."

Alice sat back in her chair, stunned into silence. It all made sense now.

Mirana took both of Alice's flushed hands into her own cool ones. "Now, is there anything else you wish to speak of? You've already said you forgive him, and now you understand why he did what he did to you."

"Yes," Alice whispered. "There is something. Tarrant...he..." And she stopped.

Mirana caressed Alice's hands. "Go on, Alice," she whispered. "What about Tarrant?"

"He..." Alice's eyes welled with tears but she resolutely attempted to keep them from overflowing. "He said that he...he can't accept my forgiveness unless...unless he suffers as much as he made me suffer!" She lost her fragile control and began to sob and Mirana swiftly moved to lift Alice to her feet and embrace her tightly.

"He needs to atone in able to be able to accept your forgiveness?" Mirana asked gently. "He needs to suffer in order to make you both...equals?"

Alice nodded against her friend's shoulder. "He...he wants me to do to him what he did to me." She pulled back and looked into Mirana's kind and sympathetic eyes. "But I don't know if I can! How can I make the man I love suffer? How can I do what he needs me to do, Mirana!"

Mirana thought for a few moments and then stroked Alice's hair from her eyes and smiled gently. "Alice, we all have Light and Darkness inside of us. And you are strong. There is no way that you or I or anyone can dissuade Tarrant from what he needs when he believes it so strongly. You will need to take some of your Darkness and harness it, but keep it wrapped inside the Light of your Love. Then, and only then, can you grant Tarrant his Penance."

"But...but...even if I can do that, how can I...Mark him? I'm no artist of tattoos, Mirana! I'd make a wretched mess of it."

"Is that what he requests of you?" Mirana asked. "That you do to him precisely what he did to you, down to that detail?"

"Yes," Alice whispered, clearing her throat and beginning to summon her strength of will once more. "He says he is unworthy of my forgiveness and of my love until I make him suffer just what I suffered. And he says it has to be by my hand. No other. Mine alone."

"I see. Well, I don't think the Mark...or "tattoo" as you call it, will be a problem. They are not uncommon here, Alice. And we have templates. You will do fine. But the question is, can you do it? Can you give Tarrant what he needs?"

Alice swallowed again and with a quivering hand reached for her teacup. It rattled against the tiny dish as she took it and swallowed the cold contents in one large gulp. "Yes, I can. I love him and I can do it. I must. And I will. But there is one thing. Can a special template be made?"

Mirana nodded. "Easily and quickly, my dear. Let me take you to the metals artisan."

* * *

Tarrant was now the one naked and tied tightly face down on one of the long wooden worktables in his workroom. He had made sure Alice had tied him so tightly that he could not move. She had said that if she were to give him the privilege of Marking him that it must be as perfect a Mark as her own.

Alice seemed detached as she set about arranging the tools she would require. She dispassionately, or so it appeared to Tarrant, arranged the scoring knife, the clean towel, and several bottles of dye.

"Which colour do you want?" she asked him.

"Will you tell me the Mark you chose for me?" he asked her.

Alice held the template before him. It was not one he had ever seen before. It was a circular crest edged with olive leaves and inside was a beautifully scripted "K".

"The Kingsley Family Crest," she told him. "I think it only fitting, don't you?"

Tarrant nodded. "Does it have a colour?"

"Deep blue," she responded.

"Deep blue it shall be, my love. Please begin."

"Very well, but not one word." She paused. "Tarrant?"

"Yes?" he asked, the anticipation building inside him in ways he had not expected.

"I don't want to hear you scream or cry. I...just don't."

"Then gag me," he said, "and stuff your ears if you must. But don't worry, my darling. We will soon be equals, you and I. It is your turn to master and own me. Once this is done my penance will be over. And then we will be equals in every way."

"And then we will marry as soon as possible."

"Yes, as soon as possible. Anything you want, Alice! Anything at all!"

Tarrant could only see the floor and what was in front of him unless he craned his neck. But it wasn't necessary to see. He would feel everything. And more. He had put a tiny amount of acid in every dye bottle that Alice would possibly use on him. He would feel more pain than she ever had. And it would likely not dull. But he didn't want it to. He wanted to hurt, to be in pain, to suffer at her hands. He loved her and trusted her and couldn't wait to feel her cutting into him and carving her Mark on him. Nothing would please him more than to serve his penance and then be owned by Alice in body as well as his heart and soul.

Alice returned to him and knelt before him. "Are you ready?"

Tarrant nodded. Alice stuffed his mouth so full of cloth that his jaws ached and then secured them with a strip that she tied firmly between his teeth and around his head. She obviously wanted to muffle him as much as possible.

"Very well. Prepare yourself." Alice returned to her Impassive mode and moved behind him.

Tarrant knew it was slurvish of him to take pleasure in the preparation for pain and Marking, but he couldn't help it. His body betrayed him and his erection pained him as it grew larger than he ever knew it could and was pressed so firmly against the unyielding wood.

Alice suddenly stopped in her movements and Tarrant wondered what could be wrong. She moved to his side and then slid her hand, palm upwards, under his groin and grasped his erection, hard.

"Naughty," she said, "very naughty. Just for that I think I'll need to take extra time to make sure my Mark is perfect on this very lovely pale backside of yours." Then she gave his testicles a quick grip that caused him to gasp in pain.

Alice then moved to prepare to get to work. She pressed and taped the template against his smooth and perfect flesh. There were tears in her eyes, but there was also determination. And love.

Tarrant groaned at the loss of her hand on him. He had almost climaxed at her touch, but now it was gone. He felt Alice make the first cut and he groaned.

His penance had indeed begun.

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed this follow-up to "I Must Own You Completely." It may not have turned out the way any of you expected, but upon reflection, this was the only proper ending I could see for the story. All comments are welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Alice in Wonderland or any of its characters. Based on the 2010 Tim Burton film.

Rated M for explicit adult content. Special warning - some torture and bdsm. Nothing too hardcore, but some readers probably should stay away from this.

Tarrant needs Alice to punish him so that he can atone for the past. But she wants to redeem him and make him believe in the both of them. Will she succeed?

**Tarrant's Atonement**

Tarrant hadn't realised the extent of pain that the small portion of acid he had placed into the dye bottles would cause. Yet, he found that he didn't mind it. As Alice cut his flesh with the scoring knife and dabbed the dye into each cut the pain seared his entire backside even though, in reality, it was only on one buttock.

Or was the pain caused by his desire to experience it, and in great quantity, at his Alice's hands? As she cut and cut and dyed and dyed he began to wonder, through the tears that blinded his vision and the muffled sounds of his cries and moans, if he was, besides serving his penance, enjoying being dominated and completely at Alice's mercy?

She had been at her work for several hours, yet a part of him wanted it to last several more. At least. He had never felt such burning, stinging and constant pain, but he craved it. Needed it. Needed it as much as he needed Alice and air and food and tea. And hats.

Suddenly it stopped. He heard Alice say something about her being finished with his Mark and that is was beautiful. He vaguely felt her bandage the Mark and place the items she had used on a shelf. His tears stopped and dried. And Alice still hadn't moved. Why? What was she thinking? What was she waiting for?

Then he saw a blur of blue as she raced out of the room. He barely had time to wonder at this when she returned with something folded in her hands. She bent down before him and stared into his wide eyes.

"Tarrant, I love you. I love you more than my own life! More than anything I could name! But you made me do this. You made me hurt you. Yes, we are equals now, in a sense. But in making you pay for what you did to me you also controlled me again."

She looked angry and tears blurred her lovely blue eyes. "Tarrant, I've decided that since you are already here and you are so very lovely and ready and ripe for punishment and atonement, I'll give it to you. In spades. And this time it isn't because you are manipulating me, but because I want to do it. I want to really make you pay and make you realize that I won't tolerate you forcing me to submit to your every desire!"

She opened her hands and Tarrant saw what she was holding. It was his belt.

"I'm going to punish you, Tarrant Hightopp. I'm going to punish you because I want to and because I can. And then you will never, ever, force me into such a thing as you have tonight upon me ever again! And while I'm doing this you will think about what I've said and think on what you've done and why!"

Alice smiled when she saw his eyes flicker with the lime green and flecks of grey that betrayed his surprise and confusion. She slowly walked away from his head and went to the back of the table where his legs were tied spreadeagled. She unrolled the belt and held it so that about a foot and a half was ready for use, the buckle held tightly in her fist along with the rest of the bunched up leather.

Yes, Mirana was right. There was both Light and Darkness in everyone. Right now she was going to be Dark and embrace it. Then later she could let it go, having released it upon Tarrant, who she knew was craving it and needing it. Then, and only then, could they begin to move towards the Light and towards their proper Balance. She would see to it.

Alice raised the belt and brought it down sharply upon the inside of one pale thigh and Tarrant yelped through his gag. Alice didn't mind hearing him now so she removed the cotton from her ears. He was gagged quite thoroughly, so his cries would remain very muffled.

Yes, a very satisfying red mark was rising. She struck him again and again and took satisfaction as he cried out at every sharp crack of the stinging leather. She could sense his pain and his fear, yet something...something made her to want to give it to him because it pleased her to be in control this time; but knowing that he was craving it was permissible. It made it all the easier for her to punish him. Yes, easier, but not...easy. Tears still blurred her vision as she doled out her Justice upon him. Tears of guilt that she could do so, and tears for Tarrant's pain, and tears of frustration because Tarrant craved pain, and, finally, tears of determination that this would all work out in the end and they could bring this entire episode of their lives to a proper conclusion.

She lashed his left thigh until it was entirely red and welts were rising. Then Alice slowly moved to the other side of the table and smartly lashed his right. Tarrant cried out again and she wasn't moved as she saw his tears dripping onto the floor. He didn't fool her. He wanted this, and oh, she would give it to him! Crack after crack on his thigh until he was straining and pulling in vain at the ties that held him immobile. Yes, she remembered the feeling! She remembered how she felt when her muscles ached yet she couldn't help but pull helplessly against her bindings. Oh, yes, she remembered. Now, she just had to hold on to her Muchness to carry her through the remainder of what she had to do.

When she had finished with his right thigh she waited and allowed Tarrant to rest and recover a little. He was panting and his entire body was covered with a sheen of perspiration. Lovely. He was...lovely. Alice was surprised that she could enjoy his beautiful body even in pain. But she did. Mostly because Tarrant wanted and needed it, but also because...yes. Because she herself was embracing a portion of Darkness and that Darkness was allowing her to enjoy being completely dominant over him. With these thoughts in mind, Alice prepared herself for the next round.

Tarrant had never felt anything like this. Each crack of the leather against his tender flesh was agonizing. It felt as if he were on fire! He wanted her to stop and show mercy; yet at the same time, he felt as if he would die if he received it. But what was she going to do...

Crack! He practically screamed when she struck him across his buttocks. She apparently didn't care that she struck his Mark, for it was covered with a protective bandage. Before he could even absorb that thought she struck him again, this time the leather grazed his...tea-sack, and this time he did scream. It barely sounded through his mouthful of cloth. Alice corrected her aim and snapped the leather across his scut again and again. He both hated and loved when she struck a spot she had already graced with the leather. His own belt, of all things! He felt like a horse being whipped by a cruel owner; yet he perversely loved every moment. He silently begged her for more and she gave it to him. She punished his backside until he knew he wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for many days.

Alice was proud of the deep crimson his lovely, rounded backside was becoming. She would not lash his back, however. The scars that Stayne had left there with his whip were not something she enjoyed seeing, much less even considering touching with harshness.

She moved back down to the end of the table and then shortened the leather to about six inches. When she whipped the souls of his feet he cried out and struggled violently at his bindings. But she didn't stop until he stopped struggling. Crack! Slap! The sound was satisfying to Alice. It began to soothe her inner rage at being coerced into Marking him. It began to sooth away the trauma of the ordeal in making him serve a penance, even though she realised that Tarrant had no idea that he was manipulating her. He had simply wanted to atone so he could accept her love and her forgiveness. But Alice knew what he hadn't consciously realised, and she was going to use tonight to begin to correct his thoughts and behaviour. Within reason, of course. She did not wish to change who he was, just help him ease away from the Darkness of his fears and insecurities with her. She would use it to begin to bring him towards being the confident man he had every potential of being.

Tarrant sighed with genuine relief when Alice stopped and placed the belt on a shelf. She moved back to his face and knelt before him. She cupped his head in her hands and kissed him on his gagged mouth. Then she tenderly kissed his eyelids, forehead, and then his cheeks. She drew back and their gazes locked.

"Tarrant, I'm not quite finished with you. Almost, but not quite." She stroked his cheekbones and gently wiped the last of the tears from his face. "I want you to think on everything you've done and everything I've done. And I want you to think on why I'm so angry at how you've manipulated me and how you are not going to do that anymore! And I want to you think on this, Tarrant Hightopp; you're going to let me help you! You're going to let me help you out of your fears and insecurities and help you find your Light and your Muchness again!"

She had one other surprise in store for him. She slowly disrobed right before his eyes. She slowly, so slowly, untied the lacing at the top of her blouse and pulled it over her head, her flushed and perspiring naked breasts bouncing as she did so.

Oh, by the White, let him taste those nipples! Just a little, he silently begged her. But she only smirked at him as she slowly eased off her skirt and pantalettes. Naked, save for her half-boots and socks, she moved right up to him, allowing him to smell her moist and musky sex. She was so close his nose could nuzzle into the soft curls there. He eagerly pushed it into her, inhaling her unique fragrance and just as he brushed against her clitoris she backed away.

"No, no! Not now. You haven't yet learned your lesson," she said. "Oh, but it's all right, Tarrant, I'm here to help! You'll see."

And to her own disbelief and his, she leaned back against the wall only several feet away and began to rub and squeeze her breasts. She closed her eyes and sighed as she thought of everything she had just done to Tarrant and her nipples hardened at once, despite the heat of the room. She opened her eyes and gazed straight into his green-golden ones; the ones that showed his passion and lust, and began to earnestly play with her nipples.

"You're so beautiful, Tarrant," she said in a husky, almost breathless voice. "See the effect you're having on me?" She pinched, squeezed and tweaked her nipples until they were bright red and then showed them to Tarrant. "See? See how you're making me feel? How you're filling me with desire?"

Tarrant impotently struggled against his bindings again, so frustrated that he was now growling through his gag. Is this how he had made her feel all those months ago? Had she been even half this mad with lust? Well, yes, she must have been, he reasoned. She had been angry and frustrated when he'd brought her so close to orgasm and then just stopped and left her wanting, needing, frustrated and quivering with unsatisfied desire. It was not a pleasant way to be left at all. He understood now.

She raised her right leg and lay her foot on the table alongside his head and began to stroke her already wet slit. She closed her eyes again and moaned softly as she began teasing herself to an even higher level of pleasure.

"Oh, yes," she sighed, "yes, I have Tarrant tied and helpless! I've Marked him and lashed him. And now all he can do is watch me..." And she stopped speaking as she stroked her tiny nub of pleasure very hard and fast. Small circles and then upward and downward quick strokes. "Watch me...yes..." She opened her eyes and they were passion-glazed. She locked eyes with Tarrant.

Tarrant had never been so aroused! His erection was painful beneath him against the unforgiving wood. He tried to move his hips but could barely do so. All he could do was press down to try and bring about his own orgasm.

But Alice suddenly stopped and raced to his side and grasped him by the tea-sack "You do and I swear I'll whip that, too!" she threatened, "and this!" With a painful squeeze she made her point. The shot of pain through his sack made his erection begin to wane at once.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes." Alice resumed her former position and placed one hand on a flushed breast and the other into her slick sex. She pushed her back into the wall even harder and closed her eyes again and turned her head to one side.

Oh, those moist blonde curls, the gorgeous flushed face, her panting breaths from her lush pink lips, the wildly beating pulse at her throat... Tarrant could hardly bear to witness it, despite the pain in his nether region. And then her breathing quickened even more. Transfixed, Tarrant couldn't tear his eyes away as Alice brought herself to a shuddering climax that made her cry out in an animalistic way that he had never heard from her before. What was so different? Was it because she had just pleasured herself? No...it...it was because she was aroused by his helplessness! She was aroused and allowing a Dark part of herself to delight in it, just as he had delighted in tormenting her that Fateful night!

After a few moments of deep and calming breaths Alice smiled at him. "Well, I certainly had fun. Did you?"

* * *

After his limbs were fully functional again Tarrant sheepishly approached Alice, who was in the kitchen calmly sipping tea. "Um...Alice? Sweetling?"

She looked up at him impassively. "Yes, Tarrant?"

"I...I just want to...to..."

Alice stood and looked up into his face. Then she slapped him sharply across his left cheek. Tarrant stumbled.

"I...I know I deserved that, but..."

"But what? Do you even know _why_ I slapped you, Tarrant?"

Tarrant knew that he had to be truthful. He had absolutely no idea why she had slapped him. He shook his head.

"Because I want you to stop being timid. I want you to stop feeling guilty. I want you to stop all the worry and insecurity and learn to trust me. And yourself." She took his face in her hands and locked her gaze to his. "What is it you want right now, Tarrant?"

Tarrant swallowed hard. "I want you. In bed."

"That's better," Alice purred. "Yes, Tarrant, let's go to the bedroom. And while we're there, take what you want. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," he sighed, drawing her to him for a long, heated kiss. This was the first time she had allowed him to touch her since she had released him from his bondage on the table. "Yes, Alice, my love, I'll take what I want."

On the way to the bedroom they shed their clothes and by the time they tumbled onto the bed they were naked and beyond impassioned.

Despite the lingering discomfort in his tea-sack Tarrant was already aroused. His Alice was flushed and panting and so eager he could scare believe it. He pushed her towards the centre of the bed and climbed between her legs. He claimed her lips and persuaded them to part with his eager tongue. He invaded every possible space in her Alice-mouth that he could. She tasted of honey and rose and tea and, of course, Alice. She grasped his soft orange hair tightly and pulled his head to her breasts.

Her gasps encouraged him and he was so excited he rained feverish kisses all over those luscious mounds.

"More," she whispered.

He complied. Tarrant began to suckle her flesh and knew he would leave marks but he didn't care. She wanted this as badly as he did! She arched her back towards him, urging him on. When he began to nip the rosy tips of her breasts she groaned in pure delight. Her strawberry-cream nipples just begged to be tasted, laved, nipped, and suckled. She squirmed against him in delight and he smiled and moved up to her throat.

"Oh, yes, Tarrant," she moaned. "This is...ahhh..."

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her most sensitive spot and she stiffened with the sensation. She made soft purring sounds of pleasure. He continued to kiss and nuzzle that spot on her throat.

"More, Tarrant, please!"

He gave her more, sucking and nipping at her soft flesh even harder, but Alice was shaking her head, blonde curls tumbling about. "I said more, Tarrant! Please, harder! More!"

He tried to comply and began to scrape his teeth along her neck. She liked this and leaned into him, clutching his shoulders tightly and groaning. "Yes, yes! Harder!"

"Alice, I'll hurt you if I do!"

Alice curled her fingers into his hair until she had a tight grip. "Like this, Tarrant!" She pulled his teeth across the side of her throat. He worried about bruising her, or even... And it happened. His teeth scraped into her vulnerable flesh so hard that he suddenly tasted the metallic flavour of her blood!

Tarrant gasped and pulled back. "I've done too much! I've hurt you, Alice! You're bleeding!"

Alice did not care. "Tarrant, don't stop! This is what I want!" When he hesitated, she forced his head down again until he once more was grazing her flesh and tasting her blood. Her sounds of satisfaction reassured him.

After a few moments he was beyond caring as well. He lapped at her blood while he kissed her, and then he moved lower down her body, kissing and sucking and nipping her skin all the way down to her core. He drew back and gazed at her wet centre but she stopped him.

"Please, Tarrant, just take me now! Take me as hard as you want! Any way you want!"

Any way he wanted? Very well. He turned her over and slapped her rear. "On yer hands and knees," he growled. Alice complied and Tarrant grasped her hips and before Alice could prepare he had plunged into her in one hard, deep thrust. She gasped in pain but didn't protest, she even lowered her head by resting on her elbows instead of her hands. This gave Tarrant even easier access to her sweet passage and Alice more receptivity to the sensations.

Alice was surprised at how much she was enjoying their rough love play. When Tarrant continued thrusting into her it hurt, but it hurt in such a lovely and appealing way. He was doing as she asked, taking her hard and rough, but she could feel that he was enjoying it, too. His low growls of pleasure and his fingers digging into her hips told her so. He plunged into her so hard his hips slapped against her rear and she had to struggle to keep her balance on the mattress. As she struggled to keep balance her ears were filled with the roar of her own rushing blood and the sound was incredible! After he had pumped into her for several minutes her pulled out and told her to roll onto her back.

Alice did so and parted her legs eagerly, but Tarrant grasped her knees and pressed her legs upwards until her feet were along-side her head. Then he gazed at her with a dark, feral gaze and plunged into her again. Alice gasped. This position was deep, too, but in a different way! They had never loved like this before. When the pressure of his thrusting increased Alice felt a stinging pain as he slammed against her cervix but she didn't want him to stop! And again, to her surprise, his pelvis was thrusting against her rear once more! She almost giggled in maniacal glee. She could hardly think as the sensations of pleasure and pain were overwhelming her, but one thought did seep into her mind. Her experience at Tarrant's hands when he had abducted and Marked her, and her Marking him in return had changed her.

Not for every time they would make love, however, but sometimes. At least sometimes. Yes, she wanted to embrace this Dark need for pleasure and pain. The combination was absolutely exquisite! And Tarrant's confidence in taking charge of her tonight, (finally!) was thrilling beyond compare.

Tarrant pulled out of her and pressed his white-lavender-purple erection against her lips. "Open tha' bonnie mouth o' yers an' tek meh!" he burred sharply.

At once Alice obeyed and was surprised when, instead of sliding into her mouth gently and carefully, he plunged into her throat as roughly as he had her body. She had to relax as quickly as possible to keep from choking and to allow him to continue. Once or twice she gagged for a moment and when she did she heard a different sound of pleasure from him. She knew he didn't want to choke her, yet the constricting muscles of her throat obviously felt good around him. He kept up the rough pace until her jaws were aching. There was simply so much of him! All of a sudden he went rigid and his seed, tasting like blueberry wine, spurted into her throat and Alice swallowed it down eagerly. She didn't even mind that her own release hadn't come.

But she was taken by surprise. Tarrant quickly and smoothly slid down to her sex and, keeping her thighs upwards, he pressed his face into her and began to tongue and suck and nip her as roughly as he had her breasts. And since her breasts were definitely going to bruise Alice had no doubt she would bruise down there as well. And she didn't care! He pointed his tongue and tickled her clitoris at the same time he bit down on it and she came. She came so hard that she went blind for the first time in her life! Her body shuddered and quivered as Tarrant continued to sweetly torment her and all she could do was bear it. Just as her vision was returning he bit her again and she climaxed again, going blind once more.

Tarrant then lowered her legs and pressed his mouth to hers and both tasted themselves on each other's lips. Their rough and almost desperate kiss slowly began to become tender and gentle. Alice's vision returned and she marveled at how wondrous their lovemaking had just been. They had never been passionate in this way before; so free and wild! So utterly natural and giving and taking. It was absolutely perfect!

Tarrant gently traced her lips with his finger and gazed into her glowing blue eyes with his violet ones, the ones he had when he was feeling his most loving and protective.

"Alice," he gently lisped. "I love you! You know that, don't you?"

"Of course, why would you ask such a silly question?"

"Because...you...I hurt you. I made you bleed! Alice, I know why you wanted this. It's because of what I did to you!"

Alice placed a finger over his lips. "Tarrant, this isn't your fault. Maybe that day changed me, but I'm happy! I'm happy to be free to be passionate and wild once in a while. And I want you to know that I trust you completely. Now, I also need for you to trust me completely. And I think today is the perfect day for that, Tarrant. Do you?"

Tarrant considered. He had descended into Darkness and hurt Alice because he hadn't trusted her to come to him freely. He had served his penance, but in demanding that he serve it by her hand, he had manipulated Alice again. But she had forgiven him and loved him and demanded that he take what he wanted. And he had. And she had demanded of him and he had done as she wished and pleased her! And he had demanded of her and she gave to him!

She wasn't going to go anywhere ever again. She was going to stay with him. She was going to marry him. Half Mad or More Mad, she was going to stay with him. She loved him unconditionally; the good with the bad. The Mad and the Sane. The entire package that was him.

And Alice, she was Light and good. A little Dark but mostly Light. She forgave freely and punished without mercy when she had to. She did what she had to do, even when she hated herself for it, to help him. She accepted him and now, with her slight Darkness, Tarrant felt himself rising more to the Light inside of him. He loved and accepted the entire package that was his Alice.

He looked at her with bright emerald eyes and smiled.

"Yes."

She smiled.

* * *

This is the conclusion of this particular storyline. I hope you all enjoyed it! I'll really have to see if I can combine this into one story instead of 3 separate parts. All comments are welcome.


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